The Shadow Watch (excerpt of the published novel)

Chapter Three

Snow rode upon the wind and bit at Tori's skin as Scelero's servants joined the throng in Maro Square. Thousands of servants in orderly lines, sorted by their Lord House, made their way to the stage they had helped build beneath the shadow of the White Citadel. The empty gallows loomed over every corner of the square. Darien never left Tori's side, but they both remained silent as they marched. It had been the same when Ollie was drafted last year. What could you say when the world showed its ugly face?

Tori squeezed Darien's hand, wishing she were going with him. Her fists clenched as she pictured her friend learning to spar, to load a musket, to kill.

The servants of Maro'El stood in the cold for some time. Tori stamped her feet to keep warm, watching as the stage slowly filled with lords and ladies dressed in thick fur cloaks. Lesser nobles and their families watched from towers above the square. And then, Cyrus Maro appeared.

The chancellor was clothed in thick white furs, and in his hand, he held a large scroll that had determined the fates of hundreds. Darien's life reduced to a scribble on a bit of parchment. The chancellor held up his hands, and Tori joined the rest of the city kneeling before their ruler.

It was the third time Tori had seen Cyrus Maro; nevertheless, the sight of him made her entire body tense. She was struck by how young he was for someone so powerful. The chancellor had only been sixteen when his father died, thrusting him into power shortly before Tori came to Maro'El. His hair was blond and drooped to his brow, his face was ghostly white and shaved perfectly smooth, and his teeth shone like snow-capped mountain peaks. There was something terrifyingly beautiful about him.

Histories claimed that the First Chancellor had rid magic from the world so that humanity could rebuild after the devastation of the legendary War Between the Worlds. Cyrus Maro was the sixteenth Chancellor of Osha, and he was feared more than any other ruler in the New World. Standing beside a roaring fire at a podium set before the gallows, the chancellor unrolled the scroll of names for the draft of Maro'El. Darien gripped Tori's hand tighter. She shivered, even in her cloak and woolen gloves.

"Good morning." The chancellor's greeting was so soft and casual, it was menacing. "Many of you, on this momentous morning, will receive the honor of joining the valiant quests of the Night Legions. Together, we will continue to spread our grand empire across the New World. Together, we will crush King Hollsted's rebellion, once and for all!"

King Hollsted had once been a general in the Night Legions. Tori remembered the bitter murmurs among the servants when Hollsted joined the Morgathians to incite this civil war. War meant more servants would be drafted than usual. Now, as Hollsted's name left the chancellor's lips, he did not try to hide his own disdain for the traitor. The square shook with the angry cries of vengeance the chancellor expected. Nobles shook their fists from their balconies, and the servants shouted dutifully along with them from the snow-covered streets.

Cyrus Maro raised his hands for silence. "Today, it is your chance to rise, to serve our great empire, to make a name for yourself. Today, we raise up the next brave legion of Shadows. I thank the lords and ladies for their generous contributions." Tori hated the way the chancellor used soft, sterile words to describe the deathly fates of human beings the empire deemed lower in value—barbarians, tribals, peasants. No highborns were drawn for service. They served only as officers, trained at noble academies in the arts of military strategy. "Now, the time has come to welcome those who have received this great honor of service."

With that, the chancellor began reading names. The first, Tori recognized—a stableboy from House Fedra. The boy trudged to the front of the crowd and was greeted on-stage by his master, who handed him over to one of the generals in the Night Legions. A young girl, barely of age, followed. When Fedra was finished, it was House Dragonis, and then House Tindeir and House Wallis.